I made some Tweets tonight but I don’t know who saw them, who cares, but I’ll bring anyone who’s interested up to date.

Crisis.  But hanging on with dental floss right now?

The day before today, neuro lowered my Clobazam despite my seizures getting worse (not to mention the accompanying psych and emotional disasters that come along with.)  I figured out why after a bit.  He thinks that prescribing such a high dose was lowering my seizure threshold and then WHAM! Look how high they flew up! Bastard.

But today was so painfully and unbelievably shocking.  I’ve lost my therapist that I have been seeing for a year now.  Stoopid Guvmunt crap and changes in the clinic.  She was even shocked herself.

Spock held it together through the appointment but wee PA crumbled to the floor bawling uncontrollably trying to get to her GP.  Right on the floor outside her therapist’s office. Hello, everyone else in the building.  Here’s a bit of an Asperger’s Display.   FUCK YOU!

I’m a total wreck.  I’ve been ruminating about going to hospital and yet, on the other hand, can I be strong to handle this? How strong do I have to be? I don’t know.  All I do know is I’m so afraid, I took one more Valium than prescribed a little while ago, my therapist does have her own practice but I’d have to pay.

Then I talked to a guy I know about saving money for drinking.  Not going out.  He bought me tonight some Vodka, Whisky and beer that I can drink at home.  Right now, Vodka.  Neat (that means no ice–an abomination!)

I’m pretty freaked out to talk to anyone.  I think I have someone to take care of my place if I admit myself.  Not the alcohol guy! Can’t trust him.

My mother’s off the radar.  I’m too scared to call after almost two months as I suspect her husband has gotten worse with his cancer.  She laments not being “able to take care of both of us.”  I have no clue.  And I don’t want to hear bad news.  Family trauma, PTSD and all of that! My mom is still mentally ill so who knows what demons might come out!

So, yeah.  My “coping mechanisms” ain’t so hot right now.  I’d like to say, “Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”  But I know that’s a ridiculous statement.

Back to listening to Dead Can Dance.


  1. Might I suggest you pour out your alcohol? Or give it to me?

    Also; *HUG*

    Oh, Dead Can Dance? Awesome band.

  2. Worried about you… I agree with Canageek about the alcohol. You’re Dr. PA and you know it’s a depressant.

    My inbox is always open.

  3. Hi Canageek. I was so tired when I originally got your comment, I thought you wrote pour my alcohol over you. *laughing so hard* Nope. Ain’t gonna happen.

    You are correct on one point, however. Dead Can Dance are definitely awesome.

    Hi katm. Thanks sweetie. Well after you left this comment, I wrote about dealing with some issues regarding it and things getting worse. I am dealing with it. As best as I can.

    Being an addict sucks. Being an addict who is sick emotionally, physically or both is even worse. I’ll forever have a problem with alcohol. I always have since the Bipolar came steamrolling over me when I was in my early 20s. Genetics specifically for alcohol or other substances? Whoa. Unreal.

    All I can do is keep fighting to keep the beast under control. At least over all the years now that I’m aware of the problem, I get wake up calls. A lot of addicts don’t. So, that can be very helpful at attacking the beast.




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